


Child's Play!

by Ninja_Librarian



Series: The Many Adventures of Duckburg's Heroes! [11]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: And next on the villain circuit is..., But Drake especially, Everyone Needs Therapy, Extremely long first chapter, F/M, Little Bit Crack, M/M, lot of heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25075357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninja_Librarian/pseuds/Ninja_Librarian
Summary: After two weeks of medical grounding following an ill-fated fight with Negaduck, Drake Mallard is ready to get back into the superhero game and take down his former rolemodel for good. But two weeks has been a long time to allow dark thoughts to enter his mind, and impact him as Darkwing Duck--and as a father.Meanwhile, Fenton is glad to be giving up the solo hero act once more and the return of Darkwing, especially in the wake of the escape of Megavolt and the cold shoulder he's been getting from his mother over a not-well-thought-out plan. Nothing he does seems to be mending the broken relationship.And a trip down memory lane sends Scrooge McDuck into a spiral of 'what-ifs?' and worrying that he has done more harm to his family than good. He finds himself wishing for a do-over, for a second chance.When a clown with a vendetta against Scrooge and an arsenal of terrible toys comes to play, Duckburg's heroes roll into action. But when things quickly go awry, and one of the heroes is becomes pint-sized, can the day be saved?
Relationships: Daisy Duck/Donald Duck, Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gandra Dee, Morgana Macawber/Jim Starling
Series: The Many Adventures of Duckburg's Heroes! [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1478648
Comments: 48
Kudos: 148





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Independence Day, my fellow Americans!
> 
> Everyone else, hey, happy first Saturday of July!

As Drake hit the ground, he growled before leaping back onto his feet, fury building in him. He launched himself at Mrs. Beakley, who merely side-stepped his attacks. This made him angrier, making his kicks and punches even more vicious.

But none of them landed.

The former S.H.U.S.H agent merely dodged, bobbing and weaving, only occasionally blocking.

Finally, she sighed, as if she was bored with the fight, and grabbed Drake’s wrist, twisting him and putting him on the ground face-down so fast he barely had time to blink.

“Yield.” Mrs. Beakley said simply.

With an enraged yell, Drake tried to fight her off, to no avail.

With another annoyed sigh, Mrs. Beakley clamped a hand on the back of his neck.

“Yield,” She said, voice cool. “Or I will break your spine.”

With his face in the dirt, with his limbs pinned down, even knowing that Mrs. Beakley wouldn’t cause him permanent harm, he could do nothing except let out another angry noise before going limp.

“I yield,” He mumbled through a mouthful of grass.

Mrs. Beakley released him, flipping him over onto his back. She offered him a hand, but he refused, pushing himself to his feet and dusting himself off.

Unconsciously, he wrapped a hand around his forearm, over the thick scar that was formed there.

“Has the sparring reinjured your arm?” Mrs. Beakley asked in her prim, emotionless tone. “Or was it hurting before?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Drake lied, unable to look at her.

Mrs. Beakley let out yet another sigh. “Mr. Mallard, I thought we were in agreement. In addition to the explicit permission from Dr. Schwanz, I would spar with you provided that you told only the truth regarding your current physical capabilities, pain levels, and recovery progress.”

“I didn’t lie,” Drake lied again, releasing his grip on his arm.

Mrs. Beakley arched an eyebrow. “Very well then. Now. Are you ready to hear feedback?”

“Why not?” Drake said as he stormed over towards Donald’s houseboat, where Launchpad, Donald and Della were watching him get utterly humiliated.

Once they were aboard the boat, Donald gave both Drake and Mrs. Beakley bottles of water, which Drake drank gratefully. Mrs. Beakley merely held hers as she spoke.

“Your movements were erratic. Undisciplined. You relied on emotions rather than skill and strength,” She said, every word like a mallet to the head. “I was certain you were past this… amateurish phase in your grappling skills.”

Drake merely harrumphed irritably, not looking at her calculating gaze. Or Launchpad’s concerned one. And definitely ignoring Donald and Della’s exchanged glance.

“However,” Mrs. Beakley said as she took the lid off her own bottle of water. “I believe it is not what physically happened in this sparring session that needs to be addressed.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Drake said flatly, still refusing to look at her.

“Then I will make it clearer,” Mrs. Beakley told him. “Why did you grab at the scar on your arm after we finished?”

It took a lot of restraint to not grab at his arm again.

In the silence, Mrs. Beakley said, “You have recovered physically from the altercation with Negaduck and Morgana. But not mentally or emotionally.”

“I asked for a sparring partner, not a therapy session,” Drake told her sharply, finally looking at her with anger in his eyes.

“But perhaps that is what you need more,” Mrs. Beakley pointed out.

Drake huffed and threw his arms wide. “What do you want me to say? That the battle was terrifying? Humiliating? That my moment of weakness not only led to me getting hurt, out of action for two weeks, and Negaduck and Morgana from getting further and further away—and oh yeah! They broke Megavolt out of prison and the three of them are who knows where?—but that it also led to giving them more strength to attack the city I swore to protect? That the Blood Ruby is now fully operational and ready to wreak havoc of terrifying proportions? And that it’s only that way _because of my blood_? That it all happened with Gosalyn watching, and now I’m second-guessing if I’m even capable of protecting her? And now I’m stuck with this damn scar—which, fine, yes, it does hurt—as a reminder of my greatest failure to date of being Darkwing Duck—a failure heaped upon other failures? Is what you want me to say?”

While Launchpad, Donald, and Della all cringed, Mrs. Beakley’s face merely looked impassive and she said, “Yes.”

Drake resisted the urge to hurl his water bottle at her.

Donald nudged Della in the ribs. “I, uh, think we should, uh, be somewhere else.”

Della nodded. “Right…”

“Drake,” Mrs. Beakley said once the twins had left the houseboat for the mansion. “You’re allowed to be frustrated over the loss. You’re allowed to be angry. But you need to channel those emotions in a better way. If you are going back into the field, then how you are currently handling those emotions and fears are only going to lead to you getting hurt again—or worse.” She paused, arching an eyebrow at him. “I presume you are going back into the field. There is no shame in—”

“I’m going back into the field,” Drake said sharply. “I’m going to take down Starling.”

Mrs. Beakley simply nodded. “Very well, then.” She paused and scowled before sighing. “It’s not my intention to sound harsh. But, frankly, you need to get your act together, Mr. Mallard, if you want to stop Negaduck and continue as Darkwing. The path you’re on right now is a dangerous one—more so than usual, for you. That is all I am going to say on the matter currently. If you’ll excuse me. Launchpad. Mr. Mallard”

With that, Mrs. Beakley nodded her head at both of them, then walked off the deck of the houseboat and followed the path that Donald and Della had taken moments before.

Drake huffed and rested his forearms on the side of the boat, glaring out over the grounds. He felt a large hand rest on his shoulder, gently massaging the muscle.

“You good?” Launchpad asked.

“No,” Drake admitted in a grumbly tone. “How am I supposed to be ‘good’ right now? So many things I’ve feared since learning that Jim Starling is Negaduck have happened—and there’s still more to worry about. He’s hurt me—got that over with. But what if next time, it’s you?”

“I’ve been through worse,” Launchpad said—way too cheerfully. “Drake, we knew what we were getting into when we became partners in crime-fighting. We knew it’d get dangerous. Did we know that we could be facing Mr. Starling as our archenemy? No. But we can handle it, right? We’re Darkwing Duck and Pilot! There’s nothing we can’t handle!”

Drake was quiet. Then he whispered, “What if it’s Gosalyn? What if he does something to hurt Gosalyn?”

That made Launchpad be quiet as well. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. “As far as we know, he doesn’t know the connection yet.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” Drake argued. He tilted his head back, looking up at the sky. “What if we can’t protect her, Launchpad? What if… what if we lose her?”

“Hey,” Launchpad said quickly, shaking Drake’s shoulder slightly. “ _Hey_. No. We’re not losing anyone.”

Drake squared his shoulders and squashed the empty plastic bottle in his hands.

“You’re right,” He said darkly. “We’re not. I won’t let it happen.”

*****

Fenton took a deep breath and put on a smile as he stepped out of the elevator, holding on tight to the bright pink bakery box in his hand, expertly navigating the maze of desks and officers until he got to his destination, the desk with a little plaque that read _Det. Rosa Cabrera_.

“Hi, M’ma!” He said cheerfully, lifting the box some. “I brought you something! A dozen glazed donuts, your favorite!”

Rosa glanced away from her computer to give her son a withering glare. “I’m working,” She snapped, then went back to her typing.

“Right,” Fenton said awkwardly. “And, well, uh, I was in the neighborhood, and thought you might like a mid-morning snack?”

In response, she paused in her typing to yank her desk drawer open, pull out an apple, and take a big bite out of it, not looking at Fenton at all, only mumbling, “Got it covered.”

Fenton huffed and sat the box down on the desk anyway. “You can’t be mad at me forever, you know.”

“And sooner or later you’ll get some common sense to go with that IQ of yours,” Rosa snapped, pushing her chair back, grabbing her jacket off the back with one hand and turning off her monitor with the other. She slid on her jacket, grabbed her apple and walked past Fenton, yelling, “Storkules! Vamos! We’ve got patrol!”

“I am on my way, my most exuberant of battle companions!” Storkules called after her.

Fenton scowled as he watched the two of them leave.

“So,” Andy said as he sidled up to Fenton’s side, taking a donut out of the box. “What did you do to piss your mom off like that?”

“Yeah, I haven’t seen Rosa this angry for this long since IT updated all of the computers to Portals Ten without warning us first,” Melissa said from her desk, which was beside Rosa’s. She put her arms on her desk and leaned forward. “And let’s just say a computer monitor went out the window. So. Seriously. What did you do?”

Fenton sighed. “Long story. Short version, I did something stupid and my mother is not letting me forget that it was stupid.”

“Like, how stupid?” Andy asked around a mouthful of donut. “On a scale from ‘red sock with white laundry’ to ‘set the house on fire making pizza rolls’.”

“Something way worse that a pizza roll mishap,” Fenton admitted.

“You can’t leave us hanging,” Charles said as he came over with a cup of coffee, also taking a donut.

“Yes, we would like to know for future reference so we can not do it,” Penumbra said as she came over to lean against Melissa’s desk, arching an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, I think you’re all safe from repeating my mistakes,” Fenton said, sighing and putting the donut box on his mother’s desk.

After all, none of them would work with a former F.O.W.L agent to lure out a supervillain with the vague promise of killing Gizmoduck… And letting the supervillain try. In front of news cameras and pretty much the entire city.

Oh, and that former F.O.W.L agent? Now his girlfriend. Granted, he was hoping to get back into his mother’s good graces before she found out that he was dating Gandra Dee.

And the supervillain? Got busted out by two other villains within less than a day of being captured, and somewhere lose in Duckburg.

“Well, don’t worry,” Charles said cheerfully. “If there’s one thing I know for certain, it is that the bond between a mother and son is one of the strongest in the universe. Soon, this will all be behind you and you’ll be back to a normal, loving codependency.”

Penumbra narrowed her eyes and sighed. “Why does everything you say sound so wrong?” To Andy and Melissa, she asked, “Is this another misunderstanding of earthling culture and speech patterns?”

“Nah, it’s just Charles.” Andy said, taking three more donuts. He stuffed one in his mouth, and kept the other two in his hands, waving as he went back to his desk, mumbling something that sounded like, “Good luck, Fenton.”

Fenton sighed and left the station, heading down the block to where he had stashed the bag with the Gizmoduck armor. He had learned from previous experience that a) getting the suit past the station’s metal detectors was impossible and b) that leaving it behind the large potted plant in the lobby led to a mass evacuation of the building and the bomb squad suiting up; both times, his mother and Captain Sabrewing had manage to smooth everything over before anyone could realize what was inside the bag—and who had brought it in. Since then, he had figured out that it was way safer to hide it behind the garbage bins at the nearby Starducks (to the chagrin of Tom, one of the baristas who knew exactly who Fenton’s alter-ego was but could never convince anyone that Fenton and Gizmoduck were the same person).

Fenton pulled out the heavy bag from its hiding spot and took out his phone, where he saw a text from Gandra.

**_How’d it go?_ **

Fenton frowned and typed back, **_Not great. Going to do a patrol. See if I can find any new leads on Megavolt. Be back at the lab soon._**

With that, he tucked away his phone and whispered two words:

“Blathering blatherskite.”

Fenton may be in hot water with his mother, but it was nothing compared to the problems that plagued Gizmoduck.

Unfortunately, for both of them, the two issues were tied together in the form of one absent, electricity-mad rat.

Megavolt.

As Gizmoduck set off once again to do a fly-by over the Duckburg Prison, he couldn’t help but be grateful that Drake’s two weeks of medical grounding were up in the morning.

Two superheroes against three supervillains were way better odds.

As Gizmoduck was flying, a large shadow encompassed him. He frowned. Strange. The weather forecast didn’t call for rain…

And then he looked up.

And what he saw was even stranger than an incorrect television weatherman.

And… Yep. It was headed straight for Killmotor Hill.

*****

From the driver’s seat of the squad car, Storkules glanced over at the fuming detective, her elbow perched on the window’s ledge, and her chin in her hand, and glaring out through the glass as he drove.

“Valiant and Observant Rosa,” Storkules said. “You seem to be a smidge vexed.”

“I’m beyond vexed,” Rosa snapped. “‘Smidge’ or otherwise.”

“I see,” Storkules said. “Art thou, perhaps, hangry? Was that apple not satisfying enough to sate your hunger? We are not so far from the station that we cannot return and bring with us several of the nuts of dough that your noble son brought you.”

That seemed to make Rosa even angrier. “No.”

“Very well,” Storkules said. “Then perhaps—”

Rosa mumbled something in Spanish and exclaimed, “I love my son. Dearly. But how can he be so smart and yet such an idiot?”

“Ah,” Storkules said, attempting to sound as wise as his dear friend, Donald Duck. Perhaps if he could channel his courageous companion… “Your anger does not stem from any simple mistake, then? It is something that has truly, deeply, upset you?”

“Of course!” Rosa snapped, dropping her arm and spinning her head around to glare at Storkules. “He didn’t think, and he put himself in a dangerous position—purposefully!—and scared the hell out of me!”

“For the sake of clarity,” Storkules said. “Are you referring to the incident two weeks ago with the nefarious Megavolt and the Gandra of Dee?”

“Of course that’s what I am referring to!” Rosa exclaimed. “That, and every other time he has rushed headfirst into danger without thinking! He’s going to get himself killed one of these days, Storkules! And then what? What am I supposed to do?” She sighed and resumed looking out the window. “Sometimes, I just wish he was a child again. He’s always going to be my bebé. But he’s not a child anymore, and I… I can’t protect him like I could when he was small, you know?”

“I am afraid that, not being a parent, I do not understand to the extent that you desire from me,” Storkules said. “I do, however, know that child, adult, suit of armor or no, it would be impossible to spare anyone from everything that could possibly hurt them. Not even my mighty father, Zeus, would be capable of that.”

Granted, his mighty deity father didn’t necessarily have the inclination to protect Storkules from anything, and regularly sent the demigod purposefully into danger and peril. But that was the cost of becoming a hero, was it not?

Rosa was quiet for a moment, then she said, “Storkules, someday you will love someone—be it a partner, child or friend—that you love so much that their hurt is your hurt. That you can’t bear to think of life without them. That, to an extent, their lives matter to you more than your own. Practicality and ability and possibility does not matter. It is still something you desire, deep in your heart and soul. And—” She cut herself off, sitting up straighter in her seat.

“And?” Storkules prompted.

“What is that?” Rosa asked, gesturing to something out the window.

Storkules pulled the car over into a parking spot and they both got out of the vehicle, staring up at the sky.

Storkules frowned. “Whatever that is, it is heading towards McDuck Manor.”

Rosa sighed. “Of course it. Alright, let’s move.”

Seconds later, they were speeding off, lights flashing and sirens whirring.

*****

Scrooge came down the stairs as he heard the back door open and close, the distinct sound of two pairs of feet—one foot made of metal—on the kitchen floor.

“Ah, Donald, Della!” Scrooge exclaimed as he walked into the kitchen. “Great timing! How’s it going out back between Mrs. Beakley and Mr. Mallard, then?”

“I think it’s for the best that we do not talk about it,” Della said, hopping onto the counter and opening the cabinet, pulling out a bag of chips and eating straight out of the bag.

Scrooge couldn’t help but smile. Not at Della’s words, but her actions. She had done that ever since he could remember, and it was a habit that she continued well into adulthood.

“Ah, Drake’s a bit rusty from his time off, but I’m sure he’ll be fine and a well-oiled machine once more,” Scrooge said.

“I hope so,” Donald said, resting his forearms on the kitchen island. “You said ‘great timing’. Got a lead on some treasure you want to go hunting for?”

“Not this time,” Scrooge said, reaching into his pocket. “I did find something, though, and wanted to share.”

He held out the photograph to Donald, who took it and then he smiled. “Della, look.”

Della hopped off the counter and came to Donald’s side. “Awww,” She cooed. “It’s us!”

Indeed, the photo depicted a much younger Scrooge with a tiny Donald and Della, all three of them smiling at the camera. Della wore a much smaller version of her aviator’s hat and goggles, holding a model plane, while Donald held a toy sailboat.

“That was your fifth birthday, if I recall correctly,” Scrooge said.

“I think you’re right,” Donald said, nodding slightly. He laughed. “Della’s got frosting on her beak.”

“Our birthday photos typically involve one or both of us being covered in frosting,” Della said.

“Hey, it’s only on me when you shove me into the cake!” Donald protested good-naturedly. He glanced back at the photo. “Feels like a lifetime ago, you know? Things were simpler back then.”

Scrooge did know. Several months after this photo had been taken, he had buried his sister and brother-in-law and was now the guardian of two grieving children, one an endless supply of energy that typically bred chaos and the other brimming with an anger he hadn’t known a child could possess. Scrooge hadn’t quite been up to the task of parenting back then. Perhaps he never had actually gotten up to the task, either, because four months after the twins moved in and three solo treasure hunting trips, Scrooge had found the two stowed away on the train he was traveling on, which was the starting point for their many travels and adventures.

It hit Scrooge with a pang in his chest, looking at Donald and Della now, that things could have been different if he had actually taken his role as the twins’ guardian more seriously. To be a parent instead of the fun, adventurous, treasure-seeking, yet serious businessman uncle.

Della’s leg. Donald’s stress. The combined post-traumatic stress the two had accumulated over the years. The ten years his great-nephews spent without ever knowing their mother…

What would their lives have been like otherwise if he had made one different choice a lifetime ago?

Suddenly, the silence in the kitchen was broken by three small ‘dings’ from their respective phones.

Donald pulled his out first, frowning. “Dewey Dew-Night is live now.” He read out-loud.

“Och aye, I knew it had been too quiet around here,” Scrooge said, glancing at the same notification on his phone and wondering just when Dewey had subscribed Scrooge to his MeView channel. “Well, what are they up to this time?”

Donald opened the video and his eyes widened. “Oh no…” He said, immediately running for the front door, Della and Scrooge on his heels.

*****

With one hand holding his phone, Louie used his other hand to do a countdown.

In front of the camera, Dewey grinned and held tightly to the microphone so that as soon as Louie pointed a finger-gun at him, their ‘go’ signal, he said,

“Live from McDuck Manor, it’s the first ever episode in a special Dewey Dew-Night segment series: Just Dew It! I’m your host, Dewey Duck, and today I’m gonna introduce you to the craziest daredevil skateboarder in all of Duckburg: Gosalyn Mallard!”

“Hey ya!” Gosalyn said, waving at the camera with a grin, skateboard tucked under one arm, her helmet on her head, and padding on her knees and elbows.

“Gosalyn, we have set up for you on Killmotor Hill the most awesome, death-defying obstacle course for you to navigate,” Dewey said. “Are you ready to Dew It?”

“Oh yeah!” Gosalyn said, nodding. “I was born ready!”

“Ah, yes, but were you born ready to Dew It… BLINDFOLDED?” Dewey yelled the last word for special effects.

Huey, appropriately, played an impressed ‘ooh’ sound on the electric keyboard slung around him.

“What do you think folks, do you think she can Dew It?” Dewey asked to his slim live audience—consisting entirely of his brothers and Webby.

“Yes!” Came the response from the other three, with an accompanied sound bit of cheering courtesy of the keyboard.

“Gosalyn Mallard, do you accept the challenge?” Dewey asked.

“I accept the challenge!” Gosalyn crowed, and Webby ran over to blindfold Gosalyn.

“Then JUST DEW IT!” Dewey called out, dragging out the last word.

Gosalyn put her board on the ground, reached up to snap her helmet’s straps. She put her feet on the board, was about to kick-off when…

“Oh no you don’t!”

Gosalyn let out a yelp of surprise when a pair of arms yoinked her backwards. She flailed, punching and kicking and elbowing her attacker.

“Let me go!” She yelled. “You think you can pick a fight with Gosalyn Mallard, huh? Well, let me tell you, buster, I’ve—” She blinked in the sunlight as the blindfold slipped down her face and she looked up at the very annoyed face of her father. “Dad!” She groaned.

“Gosalyn,” He growled in response, setting her on the ground. Drake put his hands on his hips, glaring at her. “And just what, exactly, were you doing?”

“Well, technically, I hadn’t done anything yet,” Gosalyn pointed out, untying the blindfold. “But I was about to own the most epic skateboard course known to man!”

“The ‘most awesome, death-defying’ course? Blindfolded?” Drake said, his eye twitching slightly in anger.

“You watched my segment!” Dewey said, sounding way too pleased.

“Yep, got the notification!” Launchpad said, waving his phone slightly.

Drake ignored them. “Do you have any idea how stupidly dangerous that was?”

“It wasn’t dangerous at all, Dad, chill,” Gosalyn groaned.

However, at that moment, her skateboard—already pushed into motion slightly by the sudden removal of its rider—teetered down the road and whooshed away. The five kids, Drake, and Launchpad all watched and listened to the sounds of crashing, cats yowling, and one explosion.

Drake arched an eyebrow at Gosalyn.

“Heh,” Gosalyn said sheepishly with a shrug. “Crashed it?”

“That’s my girl,” Launchpad said approvingly.

“Not dangerous at all, huh?” Drake asked dryly.

“Okay, come on, there was no one to direct the board, of course it’s gonna crash!” Gosalyn exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. “I could have totally handled it! Besides, these days you think everything is too dangerous for me!”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Gosalyn saw Drake’s already dark and angry eyes get darker and angrier. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“What the dismal downs is going on out here?” Scrooge McDuck asked as he, Donald and Della arrived.

“The kids are deliberately putting themselves in danger for funsies,” Drake spat.

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from Mr. ‘Let’s Get Dangerous’ himself!” Gosalyn snapped, stamping her foot on the ground in frustration. “Besides, you wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on the tailfeathers! It’s like as soon as you become an adult, you don’t even remember what it’s like to be a kid!”

Before Drake could retort to that, Louie said, “Uh, what’s up with that?”

Everyone looked up to see a giant hot air balloon floating towards them, blaring circus music.

“Well, that’s weird,” Della observed. “Am I the only one who thinks that balloon looks like a circus tent?”

“Nope, not just you,” Dewey said. “And… is that?”

It was. Leaning out of the basket, holding a megaphone meant to look like a rubber chicken, a clown yelled,

“Curses upon you and your entire family, Scrooge McDuck!”

“Wow,” Huey said, his head tilted up at the clown in the balloon. “I know you’ve been cursed a lot, Uncle Scrooge, but I bet this is the first time you’ve been cursed by a clown.”

“Of course it’s not, lad,” Scrooge responded without missing a beat. “I’ve been cursed by Glomgold many a time. Now, the question is, why exactly am I being cursed by this particular clown?”

“I am here to get my revenge, Scrooge McDuck, for your crimes against joy, fun, and childhood!” The clown yelled through his microphone.

“What did you do to the clown?” Donald asked, raising an eyebrow at his uncle.

“Would tell ye if I knew,” Scrooge said with a shrug.

The clown continued, as if answering the question: “I will make you rue the day that you bought Quacken Toys and had me fired!”

“You had the guy fired?” Webby asked, sounding surprised.

“I dinnae remember any clowns being on staff… though in the transaction there was a toy designer that was terminated. But he was going to be let go with or without the merger,” Scrooge admitted. He snapped his fingers. “Jackson! Jackson Downey was his name! The crazy coot was known for his outrageous toy designs.”

“How outrageous?” Huey asked. “Like, on a scale of a brick with googly eyes to—?”

“To model lumberjacks—with actual working chainsaws,” Scrooge said. “Toy tanks with real artillery. Toy hammers with actual steel heads. That’s just the tame stuff.”

“You all called me crazy! Said my inventions were dangerous! That there would be complaints, lawsuits—and that was even if any child even wanted my toys!” Jackson Downey called. “Well, I’m going to prove it that you made the wrong decision, McDuck!”

Downey then disappeared into the basket and the hot air balloon seemed to lower, aiming for the front gate of the manor.

At that point, Gizmoduck touched down on the grass.

“I heard everything,” He commented. “What do you think he has planned?”

“Let’s go find out, shall we?” Scrooge said.

“I’ll meet you down there,” Drake said. “Let me change.”

“You’re suiting up?” Gizmoduck said, surprised. “But you’re not supposed to be back till tomorrow.”

“What difference is a couple of hours going to make?” Drake snapped at him. “I’ll meet you there.”

Gizmoduck shook his head and headed for the front gates, the McDuck clan, Launchpad and Gosalyn behind him.

They arrived as the balloon touched down and a squad car arrived, the sirens cutting off but the lights still whirring.

“Oh great,” Gizmoduck muttered under his breath as the two officers got out of the car. Just what he needed, his mother to show up.

“McDuck, what’s going on?” Detective Rosa Cabrera demanded.

“Nothing te worry abou’, only a wee bit of some cockamamie revenge scheme on the part of a jaded jester,” Scrooge said amicably with a wave of his hand.

Rosa did not look impressed, glancing over at the clown who expertly tumbled out of the basket, making it look like he was falling only to do a somersault and land on his feet. She sighed and reached for her radio. “Headquarters, this is unit Delta Tango Seventeen, requesting back-up at Killmotor Hill to deal with a deranged clown situation.”

Her eyes widened as the radio was suddenly out of her hand, grabbed by a sticky rubber hand wielded by the clown, who crushed the radio under his foot.

“I am not deranged!” He declared, while looking rather deranged in his rainbow afro wig, face paint, and over-sized red shoes. “Is it truly wrong to possess a child-like sense of wonder as an adult? And to use that sense of wonder to create joy for all the good little boys and girls in the world?”

“Dude, that’s Santa and you really don’t know your audience if you’re going to emulate that guy,” Louie pointed out.

Jackson Downey’s eyes gleamed as he took in the children. “Ah, how delightful! Real children!”

“As opposed to _fake_ children?” Huey asked hesitantly. He tensed up as suddenly Downey was beside him, wrapping an arm around Huey’s shoulders.

“Ah, you’re a smart little tyke, aren’t’cha?” He said, reaching behind him. “Let me guess, you’d love a chemistry kit of your own, huh?”

Before Huey could say anything, a box was pushed into his hands and Downey ducked away. Huey frowned at the box. “Uh, how accurate is this label? Because there are chemicals in here that really should not be so close together.”

Donald’s response to that was to snatch the box from Huey’s hands and hurl it like a Frisbee far away from them. All of them, except for Downey, winced at the resulting explosion.

“And you, little girl!” Downey said, already at Webby’s side. “You look like you’d just love my newest line of dollies: Screaming Sally!”

No sooner was the doll in Webby’s hand when it let out a horrid, piercing wail. Webby dropped the doll to cover her ears while Storkules scooped up the doll by its ankle, spun in a circle for a moment, then stopped and released the doll, letting it fly away still shrieking.

“And for you, little guy!” Downey continued, reaching into a bag in front of Louie.

“Nope!” Louie said, holding out his hands, his eyes wide as he took a few steps back. “I’m good! I prefer video games to toys anyway!”

Downey’s eyes darkened at that. “Video games?” He exclaimed. “Video games? The most horrid creation of so-called fun for kids made by stupid adults who wouldn’t know if fun bit them on the tailfeathers! Video games are the enemy of childhood!”

“Dude, have you ever played a video game? They’re awesome!” Dewey said. “And really fun!”

Downey’s eye twitched.

At that moment, a cloud of purple-blue smoke appeared and a familiar voice called out,

“I AM THE TERROR THAT FLAPS IN THE NIGHT! I AM THE BANANA PEEL THAT CAUSES EVIL-DOERS TO FALL! I AM… DARKWING DUCK!”

Downey’s face immediately lightened again and he clapped his hands together. “Oh, goodie! Another clown has come to play!”

Gizmoduck used one of his extendoarms to grab Darkwing by the cape as he made strangling motions towards Downey, who took no notice.

“You poor, poor children!” He clucked his tongue. “So brainwashed by adults to think you actually know what fun is, and what makes a good toy! These adults know nothing! After all, they’re not kids. At least… not yet!”

Suddenly, Downey pulled out what looked like a toy version of the blasters used in Space Wars, with its pointed tip and several circular discs around it, and the fact that it was bright purple with yellow lightning bolts… but they all suspected it did not contain water. Or seltzer. And it was pointed right at Scrooge McDuck.

“With my Fun Blaster,” Downey said, once more looking rather deranged. “I’ll use it to turn Scrooge McDuck into a child once more! Then there will be true joy and fun and happiness in the world—and everyone will want to buy my toys, you’ll see, McDuck! Then you’ll give me my job back and make me the head toy designer instead of that stuffy fuddy-duddy Ganderson!”

Scrooge, for his part, merely smiled and reached up to adjust his hat. “We’ll see about that, laddie.”

Downey pulled the trigger, and Scrooge leapt away.

Gizmoduck let go of Darkwing, instead grabbing up the lid of a trash bin to toss to Scrooge, who caught it to use as a shield.

“Hey, Chuckles!” Gizmoduck called. “Clowns love pies to the face, don’t they?”

He unleashed a stream of pies at the clown, who shot all of them as they came his way.

“Yeah, and a good pratfall, too!” Darkwing said, ducking low and swinging out his leg, sending Downey tumbling backwards.

However, instead of falling flat, he did a backwards somersault, again landing on his feet, only to do a couple of back handsprings away.

“Well, well,” He said in a taunting voice. “It seems McDuck isn’t the only boring grown-up around here… Perhaps you all need a lesson in how to have a good time!”

With that, he started shooting willy-nilly, everyone yelping and diving to avoid the shots.

Unfortunately, not everyone came out unscathed.

While running for cover, Della suddenly fell, her metal foot catching on a jagged crack in the sidewalk. Donald doubled back to help her to her feet, when they were both washed in an orange light.

“Donald, Della!” Scrooge called.

“Mom, Uncle Donald!” The triplets cried out.

When the light disappeared, two tiny ducklings sat on the sidewalk, dressed in Donald and Della’s clothes, still clutching hands.

The tiny Della giggled and tapped tiny Donald on the shoulder. “Tag! You’re it, Donnie!” She leapt to her feet and dashed off, Donald yelling behind her but laughing as well, “I’m gonna get you, Della!”

“No, Donald, Della, dinnae run off!” Scrooge yelled, taking off after them, which caused them both to shriek.

“Unca Scrooge is playin’, too!” Donald called out.

“Can’t catch me, Uncle Scrooge!” Della squealed.

“Oh, no, we need to help Uncle Scrooge catch Mom and Uncle Donald!” Dewey said, tugging on his brothers, who both nodded and ran after the de-aged twins and their great-uncle.

“Now that’s more like it!” Downey declared gleefully. “Let’s see, who’s next?”

“Don’t you think it’s better to pick on people your own size? Because I do!” Darkwing declared as he went in against the clown with a flying kick.

But Downey’s finger was on the trigger and his aim true.

With another flash of orange, a ball of purple fell to the ground.

“No!” Gosalyn gasped, her eyes wide as Downey laughed.

“Perhaps it’s not just McDuck who needs to learn how to lighten up,” Downey declared, rushing towards his balloon. He hopped into the basket and said, “Soon, every adult in Duckburg will be a kid again—and the world will be better for it!”

“Oh no you don’t!” Gizmoduck said, launching a missile to puncture the balloon, which deflated with a whoopee cushion noise.

Downey grinned, hopping out of the basket, revealing rocket-powered roller skates on his feet. “Catch me if you can!”

With that, he kicked the skates into gear, zooming off down the streets of Duckburg.

Gizmoduck let out a small grumbling noise, then took off after him.

“Come on! We’re going after them!” Rosa called to Storkules, already hopping in the seat of the squad car. Webby ran and hopped in the backseat.

“Follow that clown, and step on it!” Webby called out, pointing out the windshield.

With a squeal of tires and siren whirring, the squad car took off, leaving Gosalyn, Launchpad, and the pile of cape behind.

“DW!” Launchpad called, rushing over to the sitting up bundle of cape.

Wrapped in an oversized cape, a hat that was pulling down over his eyes, was a tiny duckling.

Who took one look at the approaching Launchpad and Gosalyn, scrambled to his feet, took a deep breath, screamed, “STRANGER DANGER!”

And ran away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... sorry this took so long. I forgot to add a note on Ch 1 that I was doing Camp NaNoWriMo last month, so most of my writing time went to that as well as working on a new draft of a novel I hope to enter into a contest at the end of September. But here is Ch 2, at long last! Hope ya'll enjoy!

Megavolt scowled as he leaned against the doorframe of the trailer, his arms folded over his chest. He wasn’t forbidden from entering the trailer, per se, but he avoided it at all possible. It was cramped and quite clearly Jim and Morgana’s space, their little creepy villain lair/love nest.

Even now, he looked in to see Morgana in the tiny space that could barely be called a kitchen, stirring her cauldron, while Jim sat at the equally tiny table that couldn’t be used for actually eating because the ancient police scanner Jim had made Megavolt repair was sitting on it. Jim now was sitting in front of it, twisting the dials and listening with headphones, his pet rats—John, Paul, George and Ringo—sitting on top of the scanner and chittering.

“You know, I was promised revenge and the destruction of Gizmoduck and Darkwing Duck,” Megavolt said snappishly. “But we’ve been out here for over a week, living like hobos, and all you two have done is make me repair your appliances and we haven’t made a single plan of attack on Duckburg. Do you know how many lightbulbs I could have liberated by now?”

“Yeah? How many of those could you have rescued while sitting on your butt in that jail cell we graciously liberated _you_ from?” Jim snapped, turning a dial. “Now quit flapping your gums, I’m trying to do very important work over here.”

“I could have gotten out on my own,” Megavolt insisted. “I’ve done it before.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the biggest, baddest nerd in all of Callisota,” Jim drawled, unplugging the headphones from the scanner, subjecting the other two to the sound of static and gibberish. “And you were doing _so_ well without us. Considering it was your third stint in the big house. Wanna know how many times Morgs and I have been in? None.”

Morgana paused and looked over her shoulder. “Wait, so we don’t count—”

“That was clearly a misunderstanding that my agent quickly cleared up and wouldn’t have been a problem if it weren’t for that one rando big shot with a camera who grossly misinterpreted what was happening,” Jim said quickly and firmly.

Megavolt made a mental note to dig up Jim’s Centipedia page to learn the truth about this mysterious incident.

“Well, at least I was doing something,” Megavolt snapped. “You claim to have some grand master plan, and yet neither of you will say a word about it.”

Morgana turned around sharply, putting a hand on her hip, the spoon in her hand at her side like a sword. Megavolt tried not to flinch in fear that she was going to hit him with it; she had done so only once before and he had zero interest in repeating the experience. “Perhaps,” She said sharply. “Because you’re acting like an ungrateful brat who thinks he’s on our level.”

“Quiet!” Jim barked, a grin on his face. “I think I’ve got something good here…”

There was a squeal of static, then, clearly, a woman’s voice said, “ _Headquarters, this is unit Delta Tango Seventeen, requesting back-up at Killmotor Hill to deal with a deranged clown situation._ ”

Megavolt’s brow furrowed in confusion. How was a ‘deranged clown situation’ good?

Jim switched off the scanner and got to his feet, grabbing his dark red hat off of its make-shift stand—a stuffed raven on Morgana’s dresser that doubled as her macabre workstation. Jim maneuvered his way into the kitchen and planted a kiss on Morgana’s cheek.

“This is our lucky day, toots,” He told her. “Finally got something we can work with.”

Megavolt’s eyes widened. “Hey, that should draw out those super-losers, right?”

“That’s what we’re counting on,” Morgana said as she wrapped her arms around Jim’s neck, the two of them staring at each other in a disgustingly adorable way. Seriously, if Megavolt had wanted to put up with this every day, he would have just moved back into his parents’ basement. At least there, he’d have two floors between him and them at night… Let’s just say, there was a very long list of reasons Megavolt didn’t want to enter the trailer, and the noises he heard coming from the trailer after dark was high on it.

“Great, so we’ll be able to get both of ‘em so-called heroes,” Megavolt said, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

“What, Darkwing and Gizmoduck?” Jim said. “Nope. That’s not worth the trip.”

Megavolt’s brain did a power flicker.

“Not worth the trip?” He demanded as Jim and Morgana kissed passionately. “How can that not be worth the trip? Are we not trying to destroy both of those so-called heroes?”

“We are,” Morgana answered upon releasing Jim from the kiss. She gently booped his beak with her finger. “Call me if you’re going to miss dinner and I’ll set aside a plate for you.”

“Thanks, toots,” Jim said, his hand sliding down to her backside briefly. Megavolt averted his gaze at the right moment, because he heard Morgana squeal and playfully slap Jim. He didn’t want to know… The less he knew, the better… “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Just you?” Megavolt asked, still confused. “What the heck is going on? What happened to the plan?”

“This _is_ part of the plan, dim-bulb,” Jim snapped as he pushed past Megavolt, stepping out into their ‘yard’. He put the hat on his head, smirking as he said, “Gathering all the players is crucial to our success. Morgs, spell it out for him, will ya?”

“I see what you did there,” Morgana said as she came to stand beside Megavolt, waving. Megavolt turned to her and she merely smiled, reaching up to adjust a piece of her dark hair. “You see, Megsy, Negaduck is going to go recruit a clown for us.”

Megavolt stared at her, then stomped off towards his tent, shaking his head and calling out,

“Jim better stop and pick up another tent because I’m not sharing with a circus freak!”

He should have stayed in that jail cell. There were less crazy people in that jail cell…

*****

Scrooge, Huey, Dewey, and Louie chased the tiny Donald and Della to a construction site, where the twins immediately went in two different directions, giggling the entire time.

“Uncle Scrooge, Dewey, you go after Mom!” Huey called out. “Louie and I’ll go after Uncle Donald!”

“Can Dew!” Dewey called, shooting finger-guns at his brothers while running backwards before spinning around and racing to keep up with Scrooge.

They both came to a screeching halt, looking around as they came across the area where the construction vehicles were kept.

“Now where the blazes could she have gone?” Scrooge asked, fear tinging his voice as he reached up to cup the sides of his beak, calling out, “Della! Della! Lass, where are you?”

They listened for her response, and eventually heard the sound of giggling, followed by “Uncle Scrooge! Uncle Scrooge! I’m flying a plane! See? Vroom, vroom, vroom!”

Scrooge and Dewey looked up to see Della standing on the seat of a bulldozer, playing with the controls.

“Della Freebairn Duck, you get down here this instant!” Scrooge said, pointing at the ground.

“No!” Della declared. “I can’t! Big storm! I don’t wanna crash!”

“All the more reason for you to land and come down here!” Scrooge told her as Dewey started to scale the bulldozer from the other side.

“Don’t worry, Uncle Scrooge!” Della called out. “Nothing can stop Della Duck!”

However, she turned then and squealed when she saw Dewey, and she started to rush out of the machine, climbing down and screeching “Sky pirate, sky pirate!” but in a way that said she was more delighted than scared by the ‘sky pirate’.

When she took the last bit at a jump was when everything went wrong.

It wasn’t that much of a distance, really, but after all of the running around and climbing, that last little jump was too much for the residual limb of Della’s leg.

Della fell to the ground with a scream, sobbing as she clutched at her leg.

“Ach, lass,” Scrooge said softly as he sat on the ground, pulling her into his lap as she cried into his chest. He stroked her hair and made shushing noises. “It’s alright, lass, you’re safe now…”

“Uncle Scrooge,” Della whimpered. “It hurts!”

Dewey ran around and knelt beside the two. He gently put his hand on Della’s shoulder and said, “Okay, Mo—I mean, Della. I’m going to take off your leg, and it’ll feel a bit better, okay?”

“No!” Della cried out, scurrying so that she was tighter against Scrooge, giving Dewey a dirty look. “Don’t take off my leg!”

“No, look, see!” Dewey said, gesturing to where metal met flesh. “It’s supposed to come off. It’s what’s making you hurt.”

Dewey reached again, but Della viciously slapped his hands, shouting “No! No! No!”

“Della,” Scrooge said frantically, grabbing her hands. “It’s okay. I won’t let him hurt you. In fact, I trust him to make you feel better. Do you trust your old uncle?”

Della looked up at him with watery eyes and sniffles. She swiped at her beak and nodded.

“That’s a good girl now,” Scrooge said soothingly, holding her tight. “That’s my brave girl.” He gave Dewey a nod to continue. Carefully, Dewey removed the prosthetic.

“All done!” Dewey told her. “Great job! I’d give you a sticker if I had one. Note to self, need to start carrying stickers…”

“It still hurts!” Della wailed, resuming her crying against Scrooge’s chest. “Why does it hurt, Uncle Scrooge? What happened to my leg?”

Scrooge didn’t know how to answer that. Dewey stood up and rushed over to where a water cooler was set up. He came back over with a cup full of water.

“Hey, Della,” Dewey said softly. “Will you drink some of this? You’ve been running around a lot, you need to drink some water now, okay?”

Dewey held out the cup of water for her to take, which she accepted with shaky hands and took sips of it with small hiccups, the tears subsiding, blinking a lot to dislodge the remaining tears.

Dewey looked pleased and at seeing Scrooge’s confused expression, explained, “When we were little, Uncle Donald would give us cups of water whenever we cried if we were hurt or angry or scared. You can’t drink and cry at the same time, and it helped us calm down. Works like a charm, am I right?”

Scrooge felt his arms tighten around Della. He should have known that. Should have remembered that. After all, Donald learned that trick from his mother, Hortense, a trick she had once explained to Scrooge while he visited her family.

Instead, Scrooge got to his feet, Della tucked into one arm, still sipping her water. “Let’s go find your brothers, you two.”

Meanwhile, Huey and Louie were standing at the base of the building’s framework, staring up with wide, panicked eyes.

“Donald!” Huey cried out. “Come down here now! It’s not safe!”

But tiny Donald just called down, “I’m playin’ Unca Scrooge! I’m a brave adventurer! I’m climbin’ to the top of Mount Neverrest!”

Huey put his hands on the sides of his face, starting to pace. “What do we do? What do we do? We can’t go up there, or we’re all just going to be in danger!”

“Hang on, I’m calling in backup,” Louie said, his fingers tapping away on his phone, breaking his own personal record for how fast he texted.

“Who, Gizmoduck?” Huey asked, sparing his brother a glance but only briefly before returning his eyes to Donald. He gasped as Donald started to lose his balance, teetering five stories up in the air. “No!”

“Whoa!” Donald exclaimed before he let out a shriek as he fell off the metal framework.

But before he could fall too far, another small projectile appeared, swooping out to Donald and catching him, landing on the ground in front of Louie and Huey, blowing the wind back around him as the robot boy literally cooled his heels.

“I got your SOS, Louie!” Boyd explained cheerfully as he set Donald on the ground.

“Donald!” Huey exclaimed with relief as he and Louie both rushed forward to hug Donald.

“Thank you so much, Boyd,” Louie said, looking up briefly to smile at his friend. “I owe you one, big time.”

“That was so much fun!” Donald exclaimed, not at all perturbed by his brush with death, looking at Boyd with big eyes. “Can we fly again? Please? Pretty please?”

“No!” Huey and Louie both said, shaking their heads as they gripped Donald tighter.

“Maybe later,” Boyd said to appease Donald. Boyd’s brow furrowed. “Louie, Huey, this looks like your Uncle Donald.”

“It _is_ our Uncle Donald,” Louie explained, letting go of Donald but keeping a hand on the back of Donald’s shirt as he tried to squirm away. “Geeze, if he stays like this much longer, we’re going to have to dig out Dewey’s old baby leash.”

“What happened?” Boyd asked. “How did he get so small?”

“Long story short, there was a clown,” Huey said.

Boyd blinked. “A… clown?”

“Again, it’s a long story,” Louie said with a shrug.

“Kids!” Scrooge called out as he and Dewey rushed forward, Scrooge holding Della to him.

“Donnie!” Della cried out, stretching her arms out towards her twin.

“Dellie!” Donald exclaimed, rushing forward, leaping into Scrooge’s arms, making the billionaire fall backwards onto the ground with an ‘oof’.

“Donnie, Donnie, Donnie! I’ve gotta robot leg!” Della said, sticking out her residual limb and pointing to the prosthetic in Dewey’s hands.

“What!” Donald exclaimed, his eyes wide. He turned to Scrooge. “I wanna robot leg, too!”

“No, lad, no you don’t,” Scrooge told him, sounding tired.

“I’ve gotta robot leg and you don’t!” Della taunted her brother.

“That’s not fair!” Donald whined before pouting.

“I can’t wait to show Mommy and Daddy my robot leg!” Della crowed. Then her face fell, her expression going blank. She turned to Scrooge. “Uncle Scrooge, where are Mommy and Daddy?”

“Yeah!” Donald asked, looking around, as if suddenly wondering if they were somewhere nearby. “Where are they?

All was silent for a moment. Then Scrooge heaved a sigh, standing up, holding a twin in each arm.

“Let’s go get ice cream, shall we?” Scrooge suggested wearily.

*****

As he sped after Downey, Gizmoduck brought up a map of Duckburg in his visor, tracking their path and predicting Downey’s next turns. He was riding on the hope that Downey didn’t know where he was—a problem Gizmoduck didn’t have. So when he saw what was up ahead, he patched in a call.

In the back of the squad car, where Webby had buckled herself into the middle seat on the barked orders of Rosa, Webby’s cellphone rang. She quickly answered it when she saw Gizmoduck on the Caller ID, putting it on speakerphone.

“We’re here!” Webby said, holding out her arm so that Rosa and Storkules could hear whatever Gizmoduck said.

“Keep following Downey,” Gizmoduck ordered. “Stay on his tail.”

“Copy that!” Webby exclaimed as the engine revved with Rosa putting more pressure on the gas pedal. “Ten four! Over and out!”

Gizmoduck turned down a side street, and placed another call, which rang only once before he heard,

“Hey, Suit. Can I assume this call is not to mix funny business with pleasure?” Gandra asked casually.

“You were dying to use that phrase, weren’t you?”

“You know me so well, Suit. I mean, how often are you going to have to take down a clown?”

“Well, anyways, you assumed correctly,” Gizmoduck told her. “I’m sending you and Gyro some images of the clown’s weapon. I need as much information about it as you two can give me. Specifically, if there’s a way to reverse what it can do, which is turn adults into children.”

“Can do,” Gandra told him, not asking any further questions. “We’ll call you back as soon as we know something.”

Meanwhile, the three in the squad car watched as the road up ahead started to dead-end, with only one way to turn.

Downey made the turn.

Rosa made the turn.

But she suddenly put on the brakes, making Webby glad that she had put on that seatbelt.

Only up ahead was Gizmoduck in the middle of the road.

There wasn’t a trace of Downey in sight.

The two cops and Webby climbed out of the car, looking around.

“So… where’d he go?” Webby asked.

“I don’t know?” Gizmoduck said, sounding just as confused. He gestured to a side-street and said, “I was waiting there to grab him as he went past, but it’s like as soon as he turned the corner…”

“He was gone?” Rosa finished, frowning as she walked up and down the street. “It’s a small radius for him to have disappeared from. Four potential places to go inside, two on either side of the street, no side streets or alleyways.”

They quickly investigated and found: a pawnshop that’s hours said that it was closed; a yoga studio that still seemed to be full of tranquility; a bakery with big windows and a bored teenager behind the counter who said that he hadn’t seen any clown; and an art gallery with an open floor plan and no places to hide.

“How could he have just disappeared?” Storkules asked. “Is he capable of flight?”

“There’s a manhole for the sewers,” Webby pointed out. “He could have disappeared through there.”

“I don’t think he would have had time to get it off, get in, and replace it.” Gizmoduck told her. “One way or another, we’ve lost him. And that leads to our other big problem. Or, not-so-big problem.”

“Donald, Della and Darkwing,” Rosa said with a nod. “And whoever else has become Downey’s victims at this point.”

“Yes, how shall we restore our companions to their true sizes and ages?” Storkules asked.

“Already on that,” Gizmoduck said. As if on cue, the sound of a phone ringing came from the armored suit. Gizmoduck answered, putting the call on speaker. “Gandra! Dr. Gearloose! Perfect timing!”

Rosa let out a small, irritated scoff at Gandra’s name. Gizmoduck ignored her.

“Good news, bad news time,” Gandra said. “Bad news, there’s no reverse switch on this thing.”

“Then what’s the good news?” Rosa demanded.

“The good news,” Dr. Gyro Gearloose interjected. “Is that we came up with a device to reverse the polarity, which attaches to the ray gun and should revert the victims back to being adults.”

“How soon can you have it ready?” Gizmoduck asked.

“Hmmm, let’s say an hour,” Gyro said after a moment of thought.

“The sooner the better,” Gizmoduck said. “As soon as we find Downey, we’ll get that ray gun from him as fast as possible.”

“Wait, you lost the clown?” Gandra asked.

“It’s like he got vaporized or something,” Webby said.

“We’ll find him,” Gizmoduck said resolutely. He paused, then added, “But if you two could get started on reverse engineering the ray gun…”

“Yeah, we can do that,” Gandra said, following his trail of thought. As important as capturing Downey was, getting Drake, Donald and Della back to their proper ages—and any other potential victims of Downey—was top priority.

“Now what?” Rosa asked.

Webby’s cellphone beeped with a text, which she checked. “Louie texted. They’ve got Donald and Della and are at the ice cream parlor. Should we regroup there?”

“It is Mr. McDuck that Downey is after,” Gizmoduck said. “Yes. Let’s go there.”

*****

For his part, Downey wasn’t sure how he ended up there.

All he knew was, he was approaching a dead-end street and turned the only way he could.

Then next thing he knew, the ground had disappeared under him and now he was staring at concrete above him, his back on rope netting. Downey felt around for purchase, getting to a place where he could push himself up.

He looked around the dimly lit place. It was all stone and he could hear water beneath him. Or what he hoped was water. There was a round piece of metal directly above his head.

“Am I… in the sewers?” He asked himself out-loud. Would explain why it stank so bad…

“Could be worse. Coulda let you fall into the muck.”

Downey turned to see a figure in the shadows, leaning against the wall. He pushed himself away and strode into what little light there was, revealing himself to be an older duck wearing a yellow suit, red hat, and black cape.

“Who are you?” Downey asked cautiously.

“Name’s Negaduck. And I’m here to offer you a deal.”

*****

In some ways, Gosalyn was impressed that her dad had not only managed to find Funso’s, but get all the way across town to Funso’s. On foot. With short, stubby legs. In a city that was way too big for him and wholly unfamiliar.

Mostly, she was just angry that she was running after him. On foot. All the way across town…

“He’s, what, five?” Gosalyn said to Launchpad. “Doesn’t he need a nap or something?”

“A nap sounds pretty great right about now, that’s for sure!” Launchpad admitted.

Finally, Gosalyn came to a stop, seeing Funso’s Fun Zone (Where fun is in the zone!). Funso’s was a beacon for kids. A cool place to hang out.

And a good place to hide…

“There!” Gosalyn pointed at the building. “Let’s see if he went in there!”

She ran towards Funso’s hoping she was right.

Gosalyn and Launchpad threw open the doors and started looking around for any sign of Drake, but were quickly overwhelmed by the amount of kids present.

Launchpad looked down at Gosalyn, who looked up at Launchpad.

“Divide and conquer?” She suggested.

“Divide and conquer,” Launchpad agreed.

They took off in separate directions, asking staff and other kids if they had seen a small duckling in a purple cape.

Finally, the ever-helpful Jane pointed Gosalyn in the right direction, having seen a kid meeting Drake’s description heading for the play tunnels above the ball pit.

Gosalyn scaled the ladder, looking around the platform, wondering which tunnel to go down. Then she saw Launchpad.

Or, the top half of Launchpad, as the lower half of his body was in the tunnel, his head and arms sticking out.

“Launchpad!” Gosalyn called out, rushing over to him. “Have you seen Dad?”

Launchpad looked up at her and nodded. “Yep. I’ve seen Drake.”

“Great!” Gosalyn said. “Where is he?”

Suddenly, Launchpad looked out over the ball pit, his voice solemn as he declared, “Where Drake has gone, I cannot follow.”

Gosalyn blinked. “Is… that a _Darkwing Duck_ reference?”

Launchpad blinked and turned back to look at her. “No. It means I’m stuck.”

“Oh,” Gosalyn said. “Well, uh, you find a way to get unstuck. And I’m going to go find Dad.”

She ducked into one of the other tunnels, crawling around until, finally, she reached a dead end. At this dead end was a large clear plastic bubble that Gosalyn and her friends referred to as the Fishbowl, where you could see out all over Funso’s.

And there also was a small duckling with an oversized hat, his knees tucked to his chest and with a purple cape wrapped around him.

“Found you!” Gosalyn exclaimed, crawling forward faster.

Drake lifted his head from his knees, his eyes going wide, especially when he realized he was trapped. His eyes started to water, making Gosalyn freeze.

“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you,” She told him. “Really. I’m not.”

Drake gave her a distrusting look. “You chased me,” He told her accusingly.

“Yeah, I did,” Gosalyn admitted to that. “But only because I needed to find you before you got hurt. Or lost.”

“I don’t know you,” Drake told her, his fingers curling around his cape.

“No, I guess you don’t,” Gosalyn said musingly. “But I know you. It’s complicated.”

Drake didn’t answer, looking down at his feet.

Gosalyn sighed. “Okay. But now I’ve found you. And I need you to come with me. So, come on!”

“No.”

Gosalyn blinked. “No?”

“No!” Drake argued. “You could be a bad person!”

“But I’m not!” Gosalyn insisted.

To her frustration, Drake turned his back on her with an indignant ‘hmmph!’.

Gosalyn huffed. There had to be a way to convince him to come with her, some way to get him to trust her…

She studied the back of his costume, the cape he held tightly around himself, the hat that was about as big as he was.

Of course…

Her dad could always talk about _Darkwing Duck_. Maybe little kid him was the same.

“I like your costume,” Gosalyn said. “Darkwing Duck, right?”

She smiled slightly as Drake’s head lifted. She crawled further into the tunnel, into the Fishbowl proper, so that she could sit across from Drake, who studied her.

“You know who Darkwing Duck is?” He said, his eyes wide with wonder.

“Of course I know who Darkwing Duck is!” Gosalyn exclaimed. Ironically, in more ways than one. “He’s only the coolest crime-fighting superhero ever!”

Drake got onto his knees, bouncing slightly with excitement, his hands clenched into fists and pressed together, a huge grin on his face.

“He is!” Drake said. “I wanna be just like him when I grow up!”

“Yeah?” Gosalyn said in a prompting manner. “I bet you’d be great at it.”

“Really?” Drake said, his eyes shining. “Everyone else says that I can’t be Darkwing Duck, because being Darkwing Duck isn’t a real job. That he’s fake. But he’s not fake! He’s real! He saves the city every week! And I wanna do that! And I’ll show em I’m not a big baby, that I can be a crime-fighter!” He emphasized this with some air-punches.

“Oh, yeah, you can totally do that,” Gosalyn told him, nodding. “Bad guys everywhere beware. Isn’t that the move that Darkwing used on Liquidator in ‘Water Way to Go’?”

“Yeah, it is!” Drake exclaimed, looking overjoyed. Then he smiled at her shyly. “You know, everyone else thinks the show is dumb. I’ve never had someone to talk with me about it. It’s nice to have a friend. I’m sorry I said you were a bad person. You can’t be, if you like Darkwing Duck, right?”

“Right,” Gosalyn said, her stomach suddenly feeling tight and her tongue tasting sour from the words she had hurled at him earlier, the accusation that Drake didn’t remember what it was like to be a kid and have fun. She hadn’t even thought about the fact that Drake’s childhood was nothing like hers.

Gosalyn had met Drake’s parents, and they were awful and always had been. Gosalyn endured his sister Binkie as a next door neighbor. And she knew that her dad had been bullied a lot as a kid. She knew that _Darkwing Duck_ had been his safe haven as well as his obsession. But had he really been so alone?

Snippets of a past conversation with Fenton came to Gosalyn’s mind, from months before in the ER of the Duckburg Hospital. How Fenton had explained that her dad didn’t want to be alone again. Not like he was before he met her and Launchpad. Not like he had been ever since he was younger than she was now.

And, somehow, she had a feeling that this tied into her dad’s bad mood for the last two weeks. But she was only going to find out for sure once her dad was no longer a five year old.

“Look, I am really sorry I scared you earlier,” Gosalyn said. “I didn’t mean to. But I did want to know if you’d be interested in playing Darkwing Duck with me.”

Drake blinked. “Play… Darkwing Duck?”

“Yeah!” Gosalyn said, nodding. “You be Darkwing, and I’ll be your sidekick! And, together, we’re going to take down a bad guy! A real one at that! What do you say?

To her relief Drake smiled, standing up in the Fishbowl, gripping the edges of his cape and spreading his arms wide as he said, “I say, let’s get dangerous!”

*****

If there was anyone who could be miserable surrounded by ice cream, it was Scrooge McDuck.

He sat at a table outside Clarabelle’s Ice Dream Parlor, Donald on one knee and Della on the other, the twins happily licking away at their cones. Across from him were the triplets and their friend, Boyd, each with their own ice cream.

“So…” Dewey said, breaking the silence. “Do we, uh, have any idea how we’re going to change Mom and Uncle Donald back?”

“Are we even sure there’s a way they can change back?” Louie asked hesitantly.

“There’s got to be a way,” Huey insisted. “If not Downey’s ray gun, then some sort of magical means. Or, or Fenton and Dr. Gearloose and Gandra could build something! Right?” He said this last bit with a frantic look at Scrooge, who remained blank-faced.

“How long ago did your mom and uncle get turned into kids?” Boyd asked.

“An hour? Maybe?” Louie said with a shrug. “We don’t have an exact time of when they got hit.”

Boyd nodded, then turned his head to the twins, his pupils briefly changing to green then back to black. “I just scanned their biometrics. They are both in good health, with no injuries or any sign of damage from the shift from adult to child. I imagine the reverse will yield the same results.”

“That’s good, at least,” Huey said.

The twins were largely ignoring the conversation, entirely invested in their ice cream cones, when suddenly something caught Donald’s eye. Or, rather, someone.

“Hi, pretty lady!” Donald said with a cheerful wave to the female duck with a large bow in her hair and talking on a cellphone walking past.

Daisy Duck, the lady in question, paused and turned, staring in disbelief at Donald.

“Yeah, Donna, I’m gonna have to call you back because as much as I want to hear about how awful the girls’ band sounds, I _really_ need to hear this explanation as to why my boyfriend’s currently a kindergartener,” Daisy said into her cellphone, not giving her sister a chance to respond before she hit the ‘end call’ button, sliding the phone into her pocket as she retraced her steps. “Donald?” She asked, stunned.

Donald looked at her with awe. “You know my name! What’s your name, pretty lady?”

“I’m Daisy,” Daisy responded, perhaps automatically. “And you’re… What? How? Why? What?” Daisy blinked, looking over at the triplets for an explanation, then Scrooge.

Donald didn’t seem to notice her confusion as he exclaimed, “Daisy! Like the flower! No wonder you’re so pretty!”

Daisy gaped at him, then suddenly she smiled and squealed, reaching out to put her hands to Donald’s cheeks, squishing them slightly. “Oh my gosh, you’re just so gosh darn cute!” Then she looked up at Scrooge and said sharply, “What happened? Why is he like this?”

“There was a clown…” Dewey explained, without really explaining. “It’s a long story. Grab a cone and we’ll catch you up.”

“You can share mine!” Donald said, offering Daisy his half-eaten cone, chocolate ice cream smeared all over his beak.

Daisy didn’t take him up on the offer, but she did pull up a chair and sat down beside Scrooge and the twins.

“A clown did this?” Daisy said, looking at Donald, and then noticed Della for the first time. “And Della, too? Anyone else?”

“Yeah, Darkwing,” Dewey answered. “Gos and LP are tracking him down right now.”

“Is it reversible?” Daisy asked anxiously.

Before anyone could response, there was the sound of something flying low overhead and they all looked up to see Gizmoduck land nearby. A Duckburg Police car also pulled into a parallel parking spot, and Webby, Storkules and Detective Cabrera emerged.

“We’re going to find out,” Huey told Daisy as he waved them over. “Did you catch Downey?”

“He disappeared,” Webby said, hopping onto the space that Dewey made for her on his chair, the two of them squeezed in together but neither looking necessarily uncomfortable. Louie pushed over the second half of his bowl of ice cream for Webby to have, having purposefully ordered more than the others for when she arrived.

“How could he have disappeared?” Huey asked.

“Believe me, we’ve been asking ourselves the same question,” Gizmoduck said.

“How doth our tiny companions fare?” Storkules asked.

“They’re in perfect health,” Boyd reported cheerfully.

“Despite the fact that they both had some… misadventures,” Louie said.

“Adventures are fun!” Della declared. “Right, Uncle Scrooge?” She didn’t wait for Scrooge to say anything before she continued. “Uncle Scrooge goes on adventures all the time! Someday, he’s gonna take me and Donnie on one! And someday, maybe he’ll let me pilot a plane all by myself!”

“Yep, someday, you’ll do just that,” Dewey said, nodding. “Betcha you’d even fly a rocket to the moon.”

“Really, Dewey?” Huey said sharply, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

“What, she did!” Dewey pointed out.

“Yes, and it’s been the number one source of all-around family trauma since,” Louie said sarcastically.

“So, what’s going to happen about the missing clown?” Daisy asked, wanting to get back to the more important topic at hand.

“We’ve got a BOLO out for him,” Rosa said, her arms folded over her chest. “And since we don’t know which direction he went, we got in touch with the state authorities to spread the word. Every cop in Callisota is going to be looking out for him.”

“And Gandra and Dr. Gearloose are working on a way to reverse this,” Gizmoduck said. “They should have the solution ready soon. With luck, Donald, Della and any other victim of Downey’s will be back to normal by nightfall.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Scrooge said suddenly, his voice low and solemn, his eyes solely on Donald and Della. It was the first time he had spoken since they had arrived at the ice cream shop, not even haggling with the teenager behind the counter for better prices for the kids’ treats.

“About what, Uncle Scrooge?” Webby asked. “Do you have a plan to lure out Downey?”

Scrooge shook his head and looked up, his face serious as he said,

“I’ve been thinking, would it really be so bad if Donald and Della stayed this way for a little while longer? Or weren’t changed back at all?”


	3. Chapter 3

Downey narrowed his eyes at the strangely-clad duck. “What kind of deal?”

“I run a gang of criminals that has one mission: destroy Duckburg’s so-called superheroes,” Negaduck said, his arms folded over his chest. “And I believe we could benefit from your particular skill set, and you can benefit from being part of the Fearsome Five.”

Downey snorted a laugh at that. “Yeah, right. How can I benefit from you when I’m clearly handling Duckburg’s heroes just fine and dandy on my own? After all, Darkwing Duck is reduced to a knee-high brat and I successfully evaded Gizmoduck!”

“You mean _I_ successfully helped you evade the inevitable capture by Gizmoduck by bringing you down here,” Negaduck snapped. “You did nothing, Bozo. You may have gotten a lucky shot on Darkwing Duck with your fancy little toy gun there, but you haven’t won yet. After all, wasn’t your original goal to take down Scrooge McDuck? How’s that going for you so far?”

Downey scowled. Okay, so he hadn’t quite won the day yet.

“Point is,” Downey snapped as he finally freed himself from the net, brushing himself off as he stood on the stones on the other side of the sewer. “I don’t need you, or your so-called Fearsome Five. This is just a little bit of revenge, I don’t plan on making a career out of this. Besides, I don’t think I qualify as a criminal.”

“And I’m sure those nice cops who were chasing you along with that do-gooder in a tin can will be so happy to hear you explain that you’re not a criminal to them while they book ya downtown,” Negaduck said dryly. He reached into his jacket and pulled out something. “Catch.”

Downey instinctively stuck his hands out, frowning at the plastic egg-shaped thing that landed in his palms. It was one of those little things that those prize dispensers at the grocery stores put out when you gave it a quarter.

“What’s this?” Downey asked.

“Open it when you’ve changed your mind,” Negaduck said, already turning with a flourish of his cape.

“You mean _if_ I change my mind,” Downey called after him.

“I know what I said,” was Negaduck’s only response. There was a puff of red smoke, and he was gone.

Downey frowned and shook the little egg, hearing something rattle inside. He shrugged and tucked it into his pocket.

He had to find a way out of here. He still had a billionaire to get revenge on.

*****

They all stared at Scrooge in disbelief and horror for a moment before everyone began to exclaim something at the same time.

“I beg to differ…” Gizmoduck said, his voice the calmest of the bunch though internally he was panicking.

“Are you crazy?” Huey demanded, leaping to his feet.

“No way!” Louie shouted, making an X with his arms and slashing them away quickly.

“What the heck, McDuck?” Rosa demanded.

“Uh, yes! Yes, that would be bad!” Webby declared.

“I don’t want to be older than my mom! Or Uncle Donald!” Dewey proclaimed.

“We need to get them changed back as soon as the Gandra of Dee and the Great Gyro Gearloose can make it possible!” Storkules said.

“I don’t think that’s advisable,” Boyd interjected.

Daisy’s response was perhaps the most rage-fueled as she screamed “JUST WHAT DO YOU RASSAFRASSIN’ MEAN BY THAT?”

From where she was perched on Scrooge’s lap, Della giggled. “Rassafrassin’! Rassafrassin’!”

Donald also started giggling and chimed in. “Rassafrassin’! Rassafrassin’!”

“Look, as cute as he is right now, I want my boyfriend back to his proper age!” Daisy yelled, pointing at Donald, who was still chanting the pseudo-swear with Della. “So, yes, it would be bad if they stayed like this! They’re _adults_!”

“Daisy’s right, Mom and Uncle Donald have got their own lives and responsibilities and stuff—as adults,” Huey added, nodding. “We can’t keep them as kids. That’s not fair to them.”

“We don’t even know if there’s a solution to be had!” Scrooge argued. “So we may not get any choice in the matter!”

There was the faint sound of ringing and Gizmoduck sighed. “It’s Dr. Gearloose and Gandra, hopefully with a solution, so let me take this…”

Gizmoduck wheeled away to take the call, and Daisy demanded, “What advantage is there to keeping Donald and Della like they are now, huh? There is none. You’d be taking away the boys’ mother and uncle, my boyfriend! They have friends and jobs and lives and responsibilities and—!”

“And a whole lot of trauma that could have been prevented,” Scrooge snapped, his eyes burning with anger. Then he closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping. When he reopened his eyes, they were full of sadness as he gently ran his hand over Donald’s hair and tugged Della close to him. “Trauma I could have stopped. If I had been a better guardian to them, if I had done things differently, they’d be better off once they were grown. Happier. Don’t you see? This isn’t taking away their lives, it’s giving them a second chance at a better one. A life with less danger, less anxiety, less pain. They can grow up safe and protected, with no trauma.”

Daisy was slowly boiling over with rage, but it was Rosa who spoke first.

“McDuck, that’s a whole lot of crap, and I would have thought you’d be smart enough to know it,” Rosa declared, her voice sharp and firm. “Yes, Donald and Della have their problems—everyone does! You say you want to protect them from trauma, but if you leave them like this, that _is_ trauma. You can’t protect them from everything, no matter how much you want to! And you raised good kids to become good adults who, yes, may have pain in their lives and have caused you pain, but have good hearts and are good people who ultimately want to do good in the world! And isn’t that what matters the most? That, even with all of the mistakes you made, you still influenced them so that they became good adults?”

“Adults who can also make mistakes,” Storkules interjected suddenly, laying a hand on Rosa’s shoulder, making her turn to look at him. “Mistakes that can unintentionally cause pain to those who care for them the most, mistakes that can be learned from, and mistakes that should be forgiven. But a mistake that came from a good place, a brave place, a just place, a place that you created without even being aware of it?” Storkules glanced over his shoulder before returning his gaze to Rosa as he added, “In other words, perhaps something one gleaned by example of a beloved parent or guardian who also is known for bravery in the face of danger with a sense of justice and helping people?”

“Are we still talking about Mom, Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge, or…?” Dewey asked in a low voice, resulting in shrugs from his brothers, Webby, and Boyd.

Rosa’s scowl softened as she glanced past Storkules towards Gizmoduck. She sighed.

“Fine,” She groaned, throwing her hands in the air before putting her hands on her hips. “I see your point!”

“Yeah, I don’t think we’re talking about Uncle Scrooge’s problems anymore,” Dewey said, shaking his head slightly.

Scrooge looked down at Donald and Della on his knees, both of them gazing up at him with adoring eyes and ice-cream smeared beaks. Everyone was right; though the twins would always be his niece and nephew whom he loved, his kids, they were also much more. They were good people, good adults. Adventurers in their own right, working together to raise three kids of their own, with their own lives.

He’s made mistakes in the past when it comes to Della and Donald, yes. But starting over wasn’t the solution. He could see that now.

Scrooge sighed and hugged the twins tight, then stood up, putting a twin on each hip as his eyes gleamed as he declared, “Let’s go capture that crooked clown and set things right!”

“Yeah!” The kids all cheered, Donald and Della both throwing their hands in the air with excitement.

“Good news and great news,” Gizmoduck said as he rolled over. “Good news: Downey’s been spotted. Great news: Dr. Gearloose and Gandra have a way to reverse Downey’s ray-gun.”

“So we just need a plan of attack!” Webby said, her eyes bright.

“Um, has anyone heard from Gosalyn or Launchpad lately?” Huey asked.

As if in response, there was the sound of a tiny voice from underneath the table, “I am the terror that flaps in the night!”

A tiny bundle of purple fabric with a too-big hat climbed onto the table, proclaiming, “I am the icky vegetables your mom says you have to eat to be ‘xcused.”

The tiny bundle of purple gripped the edges of his cape, throwing his arms wide as he proclaimed, “I am Darkwing Duck!”

“And I’m his sidekick, Gosalyn,” Gosalyn said, her eyes gleaming with her arms folded over her chest. “And we’re ready to kick clown butt.”

“Then let’s get a move on already,” Daisy said, looking anticipated for the upcoming fight.

The tiny duckling that was Darkwing Duck grinned and declared, “Let’s get dangerous!”

Scrooge nodded. “Alright, here’s the plan.”

*****

Downey smiled. He didn’t need Negaduck and his Fearsome Five. He was doing great being the Fearsome One!

He laughed madly as he watched children run about, playing and chasing each other. So they all had been—only moments before—bankers, lawyers, and accountants among other dull grown-up jobs. Downey had done them a favor! Their jobs were so _boring_ , it was way better to be kids again and playing with his toys!

Next on his agenda: one Scottish billionaire…

“Hiya, Mister!”

Downey looked down at a small gray parrot with big eyes, holding the hands of two smaller ducklings that flanked him. The ducklings looked vaguely familiar though… Eh, well, all kids pretty much looked the same. You saw one, you saw them all, right? That was it.

“We hear you have a lot of cool toys,” The parrot continued.

“Yeah!” The two ducklings exclaimed together, nodding their heads vigorously.

“We wanna play!” The little duck girl exclaimed.

“Please, Mister?” begged the little duck boy. “Please, can we play with your toys?”

It was music to Downey’s ears! Besides, how could he possibly deny such cute little faces?

“Why, of course you can!” Downey said, reaching for his recently-retrieved bag of goodies. He turned to the side, reaching in. “Let’s see now, I think you kiddies will enjoy—”

“KA-POW!”

Downey stumbled backwards with an “Oof!” as a tiny webbed foot collided with his face. He blinked the stars out of his eye, shaking his head slightly when he saw another small duckling, clad in a cape and hat, who was pushing himself to his feet and bouncing slightly as he turned and called out,

“Gosalyn! Gosalyn, I got him! Didja see! I got him!”

“I sure did!” A red-headed duckling yelled back, grinning and giving the smaller duck a thumbs-up.

“Can we do it again?” The cape-clad duckling asked.

“I wanna go!” yelled the female duckling. “Throw me next!”

Downey blinked again, then he scowled. He should have known those tiny ducklings were familiar, they were McDuck’s niece and nephew, whom he hit earlier! Then of course there was Darkwing Duck…

But if they were here, then McDuck had to be nearby…

Downey reached for his ray gun, only for his eyes to widen again when he turned up empty.

“Where did—?”

“Gee, Mister, I think you dropped something,” The little parrot said, twisting the ray gun in his hands. “Is this one of your toys?”

*****

“What do you think, Dewey?” Boyd asked, tossing the ray gun to the blue-clad duckling, who caught it easily.

“No, don’t throw that!” Downey called out, rushing forward, only to miss as Dewey dodged and weaved.

“It’s a toy, but it doesn’t seem like a fun one,” Dewey said, grinning. He threw it like a football. Downey jumped to grab it but it was intercepted by Webby.

“No glitter? Boo!” Webby exclaimed, sliding under Downey’s legs as he swiped at her, passing the ray gun off to Louie.

“Give it here!” Downey demanded as he meant to lunge at Louie, but was weighted down with Donald and Della around his ankles, pinning him in place. “Hey, get off of me!”

“Ugh, this is, like, the lamest toy I’ve ever seen,” Louie said, twisting it in his hands. He shrugged and tossed it over his shoulder, saying, “Eh.”

“It might be more fun, if it wasn’t missing a part,” Huey said as he caught the ray gun.

“How about I take a look, lad,” Scrooge said, dropping in—literally—as Gizmoduck released him from where he was flying over. Scrooge adjusted his hat, eyes gleaming as he stretched out a hand.

“No!” Downey shouted, kicking off Donald and Daisy, rushing forward to grab the ray gun in midair.

“Gos! Grab him!” Darkwing yelled, throwing something towards Downey.

The smoke-bomb went off at Downey’s feet, causing him to cough and bat at the smoke, trying to clear it, but he didn’t get too far with that endeavor because—with a war cry—Gosalyn leapt onto Downey’s back.

Downey spun, trying to dislodge the girl, but she just clung on tighter.

“Woo!” Gosalyn whooped. “This is better than the mechanical bull at the state fair!”

With a roar of outrage, Downey finally managed to throw her to the ground, where she landed with an oof.

“I’m tired of you brats getting in my way!” Downey yelled at Gosalyn, reaching into his pocket and pulling out—in a display that totally defied physics—a large wooden mallet. Gosalyn’s eyes widened and she scrambled backwards.

“Time to whack-a-pest!” Downey declared, rearing back with the mallet…

…When suddenly a blur of purple leap-frogged over Downey, sending him stumbling backwards as a fully-grown Darkwing Duck landed in a crouch in front of the clown, smirking as he rose to his feet.

“Maybe what you need is to play with kids your own age.” Darkwing said as he pulled his fist back.

Downey let out a cry that was a mixture of dismay and pain as Darkwing punched him in the face.

Darkwing’s smirk grew as he put his hands on his hips, pressing a webbed foot to Downey’s chest, the clown staring up at him, dazed.

“Playtime,” Darkwing Duck declared. “Is over for you, clown.”

*****

While Gizmoduck, Rosa, and Storkules loaded Downey into the back of the squad car, and Donald, Della, Daisy, and the rest of the kids rounded up the rest of Downey’s victims, Darkwing and Gosalyn sat nearby on a curb, watching the chaos.

“I’m sorry,” Gosalyn said, needing to break the silence—not quite tense, but full of things that needed to be said and neither knowing how to say it. “For what I told you earlier. About not knowing what fun is, and not remembering what it was like to be a kid.” She frowned, then turned to him, head tilted. “Do you remember? I mean, not your real childhood, but when you were a kid just now because of Downey’s ray-gun?”

“Yeah, I do remember,” Darkwing said, nodding. “Apology accepted, but what you said wasn’t necessarily unwarranted.” He took a deep breath and said, “You’re a good kid, Gos. A great kid. I want to protect you and stop you from doing bad or dangerous things. And, yes, alright, I’ve been a bit overprotective of you lately. But I think I also forgot that, while you’re still a kid who can make bad decisions, you’re also a kid who can make really good decisions. You wanted to take a risk in skateboarding blindfolded down Killmotor Hill—I’m standing by that was a bad decision.”

“Yeah, looking back, that was probably not my greatest idea…” Gosalyn admitted with a sheepish shrug.

“But, on the other hand, you took a risk in trying to earn my trust. You handled yourself great back at Funso’s, and during the battle. I just… it’s hard, okay?” Darkwing let out another sigh and took his hat off his head. “I’m always afraid I’m going to do something and screw up when it comes to you. Afraid that I’m going to say or do the wrong thing, or that I’m not good enough to be your dad.”

“You’re a great dad,” Gosalyn told him, voice firm and face resolute. But then her eyes softened. “So what made you think you’re not that has made you so angry lately?”

Darkwing groaned. “I thought I was hiding my frustration better. Thought I was being subtle.”

“Dad, when you’re in a pissy mood, you’re as subtle as Dewey in front of a camera.” Gosalyn said flatly.

“Gee, thanks,” Darkwing responded sarcastically. He rolled his shoulders back and looked back over as Donald struggled to hold a wiggling, screaming child only to then be crushed under the adult’s weight as Scrooge restored the person back to his true form. Darkwing rested his hat on his knee, then put his fingers over where the scar lay underneath the layers of fabric on his forearm. “That night with Negaduck, I was scared, Gos. So scared. I thought… Well, I really thought I was going to die. And that you were going to see it happen. And… it started this whole chain of ‘what-ifs’ and… I’m still scared, Gosalyn, of what Negaduck and Morgana can do. What they will do. But the destruction they wreak on Duckburg and the world is not the most horrific thing I can think of.”

“Then what is?” Gosalyn asked, even though her stomach twisted and her heart pinched. Because, deep down, she knew.

“That they might do something to you, to get to me.” Darkwing finished, voice flat but with an underlying layer of pain. “And I… I’m not going to let that happen. But that still doesn’t stop my brain from reminding me that it could happen. If I let my guard down, if I let them get the upper-hand… I didn’t want you to know, because I didn’t want you to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Gosalyn insisted. She punched her fist into her other palm, saying, “I’d like to see ‘em try! I’ll punch their lights out!”

Darkwing smiled, taking his hat and plopping it on Gosalyn’s head. “I know you will give them hell, _sidekick_. I expect nothing less. But, it’s still okay to be scared, okay? I don’t want you to put up a brave front for me. Got it?”

“Got it. As long as you do the same with me,” Gosalyn said. “So, next time one of us is scared or worried about something, can we agree to just spit it out and get it over with and talk?”

“Of course,” Darkwing said. “You can always talk to me. And I’ll go ahead and say the same for Launchpad.” Suddenly, he frowned in confusion. “Uh, Gos?”

“Yeah?” Gosalyn said.

“Where _is_ Launchpad?”

Gosalyn’s eyes suddenly went wide with horror.

“Oh no,” She whispered. “We need to go back to Funso’s.”

*****

“Push!” Huey yelled, his voice somewhat muffled from the plastic tunnel.

“We are pushing!” Louie yelled back.

“No, Webby and I are pushing, you’re just standing there!” Gosalyn yelled at Louie as she and Webby pushed on Launchpad’s shoulders.

“Pull!” Webby yelled.

“We are!” Dewey yelled back from the other side of the tunnel, where he and Huey were pulling on Launchpad’s feet.

“That’s it, from now on when I go to Hamburger Hippo, I’m only going to get a medium milkshake instead of a large,” Launchpad declared.

“I feel like there is something we should be doing to help, but at the same time…” Daisy trailed off, shaking her head.

Drake grunted in agreement, his head in his hands. Of course, his himbo of a boyfriend would get stuck in the play tunnels at Funso’s Fun-Zone (Where Fun is in the Zone).

“You’re doing great, sweeties!” Della called to the kids, then lowered her voice and said, “Yeah, so, should we call the fire department now, or…?”

Scrooge shook his head. “No need to make this more embarrassing than it already is. I think I’ve got an idea. Now, where’s the entrance to this meddlesome midget maze?”

With that, he strode off.

Not too far away, Fenton and Rosa sat at a table, a pizza between them.

“I’m sorry,” Rosa said, cupping her hands around her soda. “For being angry with you for so long.”

“I understand why you were, though,” Fenton said. “I’d probably be angry, too.”

“Yes, but me holding onto that anger wasn’t healthy, especially for our relationship,” Rosa said. “I love you, Fenton. So very much. And because I love you, I was scared. And I let that fear manifest into anger. But that anger is still rooted so deeply in love and fear.” Rosa took a deep inhale and reached across the table, placing her hand on Fenton’s, smiling softly at him. “Polito, you’ve got such a beautiful heart and mind, and you’re so very brave. You’re amazing at what you do. But it does terrify me sometimes.”

“The perils of loving heroes, right, Officer?” Fenton said with a wry smile, which Rosa matched.

“Si,” she said. “The perils of loving heroes. I won’t lie to you, Fenton. When I see you in danger—and actively going towards it—all of my mom instincts tell me to get you the hell away from there as fast as possible. And it’s hard to reconcile that my baby rushing headfirst towards danger is actually a grown man, fully capable of making his own decisions and better armed than I ever could be. There are days where I want to tell you to give it up. Demand it. Beg and plead. But I can’t. I _won’t_. I promise you, I won’t. I know how important this is to you, and how much good you bring into the world. How much it brings you joy. And I’m proud, so incredibly, unspeakably proud, of who you are—both sides of you.” The corner of Rosa’s beak quirked. “Even if you do scare the droppings out of me sometimes.”

Fenton smiled. “I promise, M’ma, I’ll try not to do that too frequently.”

“Good.” Rosa said with a firm nod.

“M’ma?” Fenton said. “Thanks. I know I wasn’t the easiest kid to raise, especially on your own for so long. And I know my, er, other job doesn’t make it any easier. But hearing you say you’re proud… it makes me relieved. I’m happy that you’re proud. But I’m even happier that we’re on actual speaking terms again.”

Rosa smiled. “Me, too. Let’s never let that happen again.”

The two of them quickly embraced, then broke apart when they heard commotion coming from above the ball pit.

They watched with slight amusement as Scrooge McDuck stomped over towards where the kids were still unsuccessfully trying to free Launchpad, and Scrooge waved aside Webby, Gosalyn, and Louie. Then, in a quick flash of familiar light, Scrooge shot Launchpad with Downey’s ray gun.

There were two yelps and one whoop as three small bodies tumbled through the tunnels, falling out into the ballpit.

A tiny, child-sized Launchpad popped out from the balls, arms in the air as he yelled, “CRASHED IT!”

Scrooge then replaced the polarity reversing device onto the ray gun and shot Launchpad again, restoring him to his adult size. Scrooge then turned and stormed away, grumbling and shaking his head.

Rosa and Fenton chuckled in amusement over the ordeal and started to grab slices of pizza when Donald and Daisy walked over, arm in arm.

“Hiya,” Donald greeted.

“Glad to have your boyfriend back to his proper size, Daisy?” Rosa asked.

“Oh yes,” Daisy said, smiling as she turned to Donald, gently running one of her fingers on the underside of his beak. “Though maybe I shouldn’t have been in such a rush. You _were_ really cute as a kid, Donald.”

Donald smiled and took her hand, kissing the back of her hand. “I know what you’re really after, and Uncle Scrooge has been waiting for an opportunity to embarrass me with the baby photos.” Donald suddenly turned to Fenton, somewhat excited. “Oh, yeah, Daisy and I were talking, and we were wondering if you and Gandra would be interested in doing a double-date. Or is that too soon after last time?” He added this last part at Fenton’s horrified expression, and his quick slashing motions towards his throat.

“What,” Rosa said, her voice devoid of all emotion, her face unreadable. She turned slowly to Fenton and he knew, then and there, that he was going to die. “Is he talking about, Fenton?”

Fenton gulped. “Uh, well, you see, M’ma… it’s uh… This is a totally recent development, and I was going to tell you… eventually… But, uh… Gandra and I might be… well, we’re kind of…” Fenton gulped again and shrank in his seat as he squeaked out, “Dating?”

“I think we should go now,” Daisy said quickly, pulling Donald away from the impending explosion, both cringing as they heard behind them,

“FENTON MANUEL CRACKSHELL-CABRERA, WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE DATING GANDRA DEE?”

Everyone in Funso’s quickly realized that they really wanted to be somewhere else. Preferably on the other side of Duckburg. Or the world. One way or another, they moved quickly.

All except the Funso’s mascot, who simply stared at the mother and son—the former full of fury and the latter trying to sooth her—before ducking into an employee-only area.

And, then, he ducked into an entrance that only a select few of the Funso’s employees knew about.

*****

Downey scowled as he looked around the holding cell, where he sat with two other recently arrested people, neither of whom showed any interest in him.

So his big plan for revenge failed, and he got arrested. He wasn’t a criminal…

At least, he wasn’t yet.

Downey couldn’t deny the anger he felt, initially aimed at Scrooge McDuck but now expanded to Darkwing Duck and Gizmoduck. And those kids. Didn’t those kids realize he was on their side? The fun side?

Ungrateful brats.

He’d show them, he’d show everyone! Jackson Downey may be a clown, but he was no fool! They’d rue the day they fired him from Quacken Toys, regret ever doubting his genius, thinking he was crazy, they’d—!

Downey thumped his head against the cinderblock wall behind him. None of that could happen from jail.

Downey crossed his arms over his chest, frowning as his arm bumped against something in his pocket. He reached in and was surprised to find the little prize egg that Negaduck had given him.

_“Open it when you’ve changed your mind.”_

Did Downey need a team? Maybe. Maybe not. But if this was his get-out-of-jail-free-card, then he was going to use it.

Downey popped open the egg, frowning at the joy-buzzer ring within the egg. He slipped it on his finger before pulling out the piece of folded paper that had accompanied the ring.

Downey’s brow furrowed as he read aloud, “I am a knob. Negaduck is right. I should join the Fearsome Five.”

Then his eyes widened as the room began to spin around him, and he was caught up in a whirl of dark red smoke.

Downey landed on his back with an oomph, staring up at the twilight sky and trees, head spinning.

An unamused looking rat came to stand over him, annoyance radiating from the man, who shook his head.

Then the rat turned his head, cupping a hand to the side of his mouth, yelling, “Jim! Clown delivery!”

Downey sat up, his head still spinning as he looked around the campground, blinking.

There was a small trailer, and the front door flung open, Negaduck striding out. He wasn’t wearing his mask this time, his jacket unbuttoned, and he put on his scarlet hat as he stepped out. A woman dressed in red followed him, her long dark hair trailing behind her.

“The spell worked!” The woman cried out with delight, clasping her hands together. “I was worried that the distance would be too far!”

“I never doubted you for a second, Morgs,” Negaduck told her, before returning his attention to Downey. “I see you finally came to the right decision, knob. Welcome to the Fearsome Five, Quackerjack.”

*****

It was painfully quiet in the meeting room beneath Funso’s as the Phantom Blot left the room, leaving Bradford and Black Heron to sit there in fury.

Wordlessly, Bradford tapped a control and brought up a file on the large screen.

Instantly, text and a photo appeared.

**Name: Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera**

**Age: 25**

**Education: Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees in Engineering, Duckburg University. Graduated high school at 16. Labeled “child prodigy” at age 7. See attached documents.**

**Employment: Intern under Dr. Gyro Gearloose at Research Lab, McDuck Enterprises—Money Bin.**

**Other Connections: Duckburg Police Department, through mother, Det. Rosa Cabrera. Potentially knows identity of Gizmoduck, as was working with Gearloose at time when Gizmoduck first appeared.**

“What,” Black Heron spat out. “Does Dee think she’s doing? A Honey Pot Scheme? Really? She’s wasting her time—and ours—going for that approach. Any pretty face with a middling level of intellect could pull this off. We have enough bimbos in our employ for that.”

“I would advise you never let Femme Fatale hear you refer to her, or anyone else in the Bee Hive, as a bimbo,” Bradford warned sharply. “But I agree with you. This is a waste of Dee’s talents, sidling up to Gearloose’s intern. Gearloose’s interns are glorified cleaning staff and errand boys. Granted, Crackshell-Cabrera’s intellect is valuable; she could be luring him to our cause.”

“That was not her stated mission.” Black Heron snapped.

“It could be an added benefit,” Bradford countered. “But, nevertheless, she shouldn’t be taking this long to get the Gizmoduck schematics delivered.” Bradford drummed his fingertips on the table for a moment, then said, “It has never taken her this long before.”

“As I told you,” Black Heron said. “The girl is brilliant for the lab. But she has no place in the field. She’s too much of a loose cannon, too immature, too careless, a liability rather than an asset. The brat should have been grateful and complacent with the role she was promised when you plucked her off the streets—where I still think she should have stayed. But no. She had to demand field work. And you, in your infinite wisdom, gave into a whiny teenager’s demands. Now look where we are.”

Bradford shot her a glare. “I advise you remember who you’re talking to.”

“I know exactly who I am talking to, and I do remember telling you then that there would come a day in which I said ‘I told you so’,” Black Heron retorted.

“Now who is being immature?” Bradford snapped. He huffed. “But you are right.” He stood, his arms behind his back as he began to pace. “Miss Dee wanted this assignment. Created it herself. Something is holding her back. She should have taken the metaphorical kill shot by now. I’ll admit, the Board and I have been lenient with her. Allowed her to talk us into releasing her for this assignment. For following this desire of hers to have the Gizmoduck schematics for our use. We were assured it was necessary. We were told it was urgent. We were promised results. And we are going to get them, however we see fit.”

Bradford turned to eye Black Heron. “Do you think you can get those results?”

Black Heron sat up straighter in her chair. “I know I can, Director Bradford.”

Bradford nodded. “Then do it. Use whatever resources you need. Whoever you need. You have a week.”

With that, the vulture left the room.

Black Heron smirked. This would show that mouthy, egotistical, punk who had been a thorn in her side ever since Bradford found her. And she already had the perfect plan. Now she just needed the perfect stooge.

Black Heron pressed an intercom button and said, “Steelbeak? Report to the Meeting Room.”


End file.
